An awesome idea
by marinoa
Summary: Francis came to visit Arthur, but he was not the only one who enjoyed himself... Oneshot, enjoy!


**An ****awesome**** idea**

"What are you doing here, bloody frog?"

Francis raised his look from the book he was reading and leaned comfortably back on_ Arthur's _couchin _Arthur's _living-room, saying nothing.

"And how did you get in?"

The only answer Arthur got was a smirk on the Frenchman's smug face.

Arthur took his coat off, looking a little irritated. He had most likely had a long day at work. "You are quiet. How unlike you", he said with a sharp voice, looking ready to pick a fight. "What are you doing here anyway?"

This time he got an answer –sort of.

"I made some coffee."

"I hate coffee."

"Well, who said I made it for you, _mon Anglais_? I made it for myself."

Seeing Arthur's stunned face Francis couldn't help laughing.

"GET OUT you fucking BASTARD!"

"How can you say such a cruel thing?" Francis asked putting his hand on his chest with dramatic face. "I came here just to see you, _mon cher_."

"Well, now you have seen me. Get out." Arthur's voice was strict but his face was very adorably turning red. The other blonde saw it, too, and all of them knew that Arthur wasn't able to stand up to Francis.

"I would, _mon Anglais_, but now when I'm seeing you…" The Frenchman got to his feet, stepping towards Arthur. "…I find that it's not enough."

The Brit's face turned deep scarlet, now none of the irritation left on it. He tried to give an intelligent answer but all he could say was a nervous 'w-what'.

"I'll show you what." Francis' voice was little harsh and casted shivers through Arthur's body. He still tried to say something -_something_- but his mind seemed to be cut off so he could do nothing but step back each time the Frenchman stepped forward.

That was, until he felt the cold wall behind his back.

"F-francis", he said, a haw a little spoiling the warning tone in his voice when the taller man came close, navy eyes meeting the emerald ones.

"I love to see your face like that, Arthur", Francis leaned to whisper his ear, making him try to press more against the wall. He tried to push the Frenchman away, weakly though, but he grabbed his wrists, pinning him to the wall.

"Bastard…"

Francis leaned closer to Arthur again in order to kiss him. The Brit closed his eyes and turned his face a little to Francis', who enjoyed how the smaller man was waiting -and _wanting-_ to be kissed. But just before their lips could touch the Frenchman halted. In a moment Arthur opened his eyes, looking embarrassed and guilty, as if he had just caught himself at doing something forbidden.

"You want me to kiss you, don't you?" Francis said lips still inches from Arthur's.

"Fuck off, frog! Like I would-"

The Frenchman grinned and pushed his knee between Arthur's legs, gaining a _delicious_, surprised moan from him.

He wanted to hear more of those moans.

Arthur gasped sharply when Francis pressed himself against his body, close, close, even _closer, _rubbing his hips with his owns. A betraying voise of pleasure escaped the Brit's lips and ashamed he tried to wriggle away from the Frenchman's grip.

"The way you move is just wonderful, Arthur", Francis said with pure amusement in his voice. Arthur stopped immediately his efforts to free himself and pushed himself as close to the wall as possible, though he knew it wouldn't take him any further from Francis – he just couldn't admit himself that all he wanted to do was leaning into the Frenchman, not the wall.

Arthur tried and failed to maintain the rest of his dignity when pleasant, nervous warmth wormed in his stomach as the taller blonde's lips brushed slightly his ear.

But nothing more. Just light touches, almost too light to feel. The blue eyes were looking at him, enjoying of the vision of frustrated and embarrassed Englishman, eyes twinkling amused. Francis was just _toying_ with him.

Arthur's whole body yearned for the Frenchman's touch, but those light, too light brushes were not enough; they were just making him want more.

"What do you think you are doing, frog?" _Just kiss me already._

Francis smirked and before he knew Arthur found himself lying on his stomach, face facing the floor, wrists still being held by the Frenchman. "I'm just having a bit fun, _mon Cher._"

The Brit heard his chuckle and swore silently, hiding his blushing face. He was sure that the French bastard knew how he was longing for his touch. Oh yes, certainly he did know and without doubt he was enjoying the situation.

"You bastard", Arthur hissed, trying to keep his voice steady. The other man answered with laughter.

Francis released one of the Brit's hands, running his fingers up across his arm. Arthur swallowed hard and squirmed when the Frenchman did the same to the other arm. He tried to turn or sit but his hips were captured between Francis' knees and the strong hands didn't allow him to get up. He shuddered as hot lips brushed his nape of the neck so lightly that he couldn't almost feel them, moving to his ear.

"Francis, s-stop!"

Skilful fingers danced around Arthur's upper body and the light touch left him frustrated, made him moan wantingly even though he tried not to.

"Francis, _please_…" he groaned breathlessly. _Stop teasing me._

Lips found his ear, biting it gently. The fingers were exploring his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt, his stomach, his sides, his abdomen, but not going any lower than that. Arthur's whole body was trembling and he was panting and moaning and swearing in the Frenchman's touch.

"Stop it already, F-francis! I'm serious, please stop, Francis, _please_!"

"Stop what?" Francis whispered in his ear, hot breathe caressing his sensitive skin.

"Stop _teasing_ me!" the Englishman pleaded, throwing the last of his pride away (though he didn't really have much to throw away). "I can't-"

And suddenly he was turned on his back, finding Francis' amused face inches from his own, blue eyes twinkling.

"Oh Arthur", he said harshly, looking down at the Brit's desperate face. "I love to see you like that…"

"Shut up, you-" Arthur began but was silenced with _-finally_- a kiss. He gasped and Francis took the advantage to slide his tongue in the Brit's mouth. Groaning Arthur wrapped his arms around the Frenchman's neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Moaning and wriggling when skilled hands travelled on his body, groping, massaging his most sensitive parts.

When Francis pulled back to breathe they were both panting heavily, looking at each other like challenging the other one for more.

"_Je t'aime._" Sweet words were whispered when the Frenchman leaned to place a short kiss on Arthur's lips, then went on kissing his jaw line. Arthur closed his eyes. _I love you too_. His hands were tugging Francis' hair out of the ponytail, moving around his back as the Frenchman was kissing and biting and licking his neck, moving lower down to his chest.

"I hate you", the Brit whispered, pulling the man he was in love with even closer, feeling him grinning against his skin between the kisses.

They all knew that Arthur was lying. They all knew that he loved Francis and was loved back.

Arthur knew it.

Francis knew it.

And Elizaveta knew it. She switched off her TV and took the tape out of the tape recorder. She would have to thank Gilbert later for giving her this _awesome_ idea and hiding her camera in Arthur's house.

Her heart still flapping a little, Elizaveta sighed happily. Francis and Arthur were obviously meant to be together, she thought as she added the tape to her collections.

Too bad Gilbert couldn't hide the camera in Arthur's bedroom.


End file.
